A Day Beyond
by Joshua Kenni
Summary: Sequel to Peaceful Revolutions. A dream of the old world hasn't been extinguished.
1. Chapter 1

_"Grab the back of your hand and pinch the extra skin that resides there. Now, take a knife and cut that slab of skin and fat away. Next, take a cup of sand and pour it over the wound. The final step is to attach gauze overtop the wound. Planet is much like my example; Planet after Meskha Treibek, that is. There is simply not enough gauze on Planet to repair the wound she inflicted."_

_-Provost Prokhor Zakharov,_

_"The Mind of the University."_

* * *

"Nathanial Fowl, I asked you a question! Now remove your head from outer space and pay attention!" 

The teacher's bark and the sounds of laughing classmates awoke the day-dreaming boy. He blinked his attention from the professor to his classmates, then back out the window again. The lad, who was five foot five and weighing in at a little over 100 pounds, was used to being laughed at. Despite having a relatively handsome body, perfect hair, and one of the only blemishless faces in the seventh grade, the students could always found something to tease him about.

Sometimes they teased him about his studiousness. Holding perfect grades was an accomplishment in his class, so he was usually deemed as being the teacher's pet. He wasn't quite sure what all the fuss was about…he rarely studied and hardly ever paid attention, yet he still received one-hundred and four percent grades on his reports. Nathanial could've honestly cared less about his grades, truth-be-told. Nevertheless, the children still found ways to torment him, usually with comments like 'egghead' and 'bookworm'.

More often then that, however, he was berated by his utter lack of strength. Given his size and height, it was understandable that he would never be a pro athlete. However, no matter how hard he tried, he could lift almost nothing heavier than his books. Even the girls laughed at him in Physical Endurance tests as he tried in vain to pull himself up to his chin, once. Hell, he couldn't even hold himself up. Naturally, the jocks took great delight in tormenting him for that.

The torment the children enjoyed inflicting on him the most, however, was the thing that he had the least control over; his surname, Fowl. Thanks to the beauty of the commonly-spoken English language, he would be tainted forever thanks to the way 'fowl' sounded like 'foul'. Perhaps it wasn't the most harmful of nicknames, but it irritated Nathanial to no ends when he heard it being used to insult him, and his peers knew it…so it became a valuable weapon to use against him.

After all the other things he'd been laughed at for, not paying attention in class was the least of his worries. He picked up his **monitor** (a handheld device with a keypad and a small screen equipped, widely used for research and information) and turned his attention to the teacher. "I'm sorry, ma'am, what was the question?"

More snickers from his peers; the teacher ignored them. "We were discussion last night's homework assignment, about the mid-history of the colonization of Planet. More than a hundred a years ago, our Lady Deirdre went to war with the University of Planet. Why?"

Nathanial rolled his eyes. "Ma'am, pardon my bluntness, but that's a stupid question."

The teacher raised an eyebrow. "Really. Why do you think that?"

Nathanial shook his head in annoyance. "Lady Deirdre was under mind control from Meskha Treibek. You'd have to be an idiot not to know that."

The teacher shook her head. "Okay, then. Class!", she said, snapping the rest of her students to attention. "How many of you here have read three chapters ahead in your text to know about Meskha and her mind control device?"

Not a single hand rose, except for Nathanial's…who put his hand down slowly, realizing his fatal mistake. _And I called them idiots_..., he thought, _why do they tease me for being so smart when I usually feel so completely and utterly stupid?_

The teacher leaned against her podium and stared at him. "You are - in fact - correct, Mr. Fowl, but I would've just as easily accepted 'bio-degradism' or 'border disputes', as they're the answers in the chapter I asked you to read. I also suggest you practice a wiser demeanor in the future."

It was all he could do to nod. He could hear the classmates behind him laughing below their breath. _Just another day in the life of Nathanial_, he thought.

* * *

"Hey, foul-boy!" 

Nathanial sighed, as he knew who it was before he even turned around. It was Max Chasen and his clique, who were just itching to exercise their taunts on the boy. He turned around slowly, and his suspicions were correct…the five feet ten, two hundred and twenty pound goliath was standing in the middle of the hall, hands on his hips. Surrounding the bully was his two friends, also more than enough to destroy the small boy.

Nathanial ran a finger through his golden hair. "Oh look; proof that humans evolved from monkeys."

The blemish-faced boy snorted. "Big words, small man. Tell me, egghead, how many chapters of your text did you read last night while the rest of us were battal'ing?"

Nathanial shuddered at the word. Battal was a rough adaptation of football, where one team launched a ball onto the field and ran towards it, hoping to obtain it. The other team, however, was designated to keep the offense away from the ball, using any means necessary. It's games like that that killed people like Nathanial Fowl.

He tried not to look afraid. "I have better things to do then run around the field after a little white ball, thanks."

"Like you could play if you wanted to, weakling!"

Nathanial noticed the boy take a step towards him as he said that. He shrugged. "What if I did play? What would happen if I was agile enough to catch that little sphere before you moving walls could catch me?"

The bigger boy took another step towards him. "That sounds like a challenge, little boy. Dare to play a game or two?"

"That's close enough."

The two boys looked over to the source of the sound. A short, brown-haired woman was leaning against the wall, eavesdropping. She pushed off the wall and walked next to Nathanial. She scowled in Max's direction.

"Mr. Chasen, I suggest you stay away from Mr. Fowl. These threats must stop, or you will be reported to the corrections council."

The bully stared at her, and then nodded. "I apologize, Miss Canio."

She shook her head. "Don't apologize to me, apologize to Nathanial."

Max said nothing and turned, walking off, with his clique close behind. The girl shook her head and looked at Nathanial.

"You okay?"

Nathanial shook his head. "Mille, no one will leave me alone. I'm a walking joke."

The girl shook her head in return. If there was anyone on Planet who Nathanial could consider a friend, it was Mille Canio. She and Nathanial were students at the same school, which was the biggest education center at the Gaian base of Silvering Point. Mille, however, was a student teacher for one of her middle school credits, teaching mathematics to younger grades. Because of that, many students respected her as working faculty…even students like Max Chasen, which worked in Nathanial's favor.

"Nathanial, why do you bait him like that?"

Nathanial sighed. "I'm tired of being the scrawny little boy that they make fun of."

Mille didn't bother to hold back a scoff. "And you think having a big mouth will help that fact at all? If I hadn't have been here, what would've happened? You'd probably be trampled to death on the Battalfield!"

"…I guess so. I'm just tired of being laughed at…and it's nice to try and bring other people down for a change."

He started to walk away, but Mille grabbed his arm. "C'mon, you." She dragged him across the hall towards the student teachers lounge. Fortunately, the room was empty, so she gently pushed him onto the small couch in the room. He sat motionless, with her sitting next to him, leaning her head against his shoulder.

"Well, Nathanial, some people enjoy your calm demeanor. When you start lashing out at people, it makes you just like them…and I don't drag people like Max Chasen into this room and lean my head against their shoulders."

Nathanial leaned his head against the seat. "And what makes me special, or even different, then them?"

She smiled as sat up, looking at him. "You're smart, you're kind, and you know about life. You could solve all of Planet's problems if you devoted your mind to it."

Nathanial shook his head and stood up, walking towards the door. "I have to deal with my own problems before I deal with Planet's. Thanks for the help though, Mille." The door slammed behind him, leaving the girl on the couch. She sighed slowly before walking towards the door.


	2. Chapter 2

_"In the world of humanities ancestors, those who stole an apple had their hand sliced away on the spot. Those who connived and spied against their countries were publicly hanged or beheaded. Kings and queens who deceived their subjects were ousted out of power, and likely killed. Yet in humanity's world today, it's suddenly considered barbaric to send the evil to their deaths. Where did you go wrong?"_

_-Shila Zakharov,_

_"The Words of the Created."_

* * *

In the tunnels of Gaia's Landing, it's quite easy to get lost. From one side of the base to the other is tied together by a vast system of tunnels that extend both below, on, and above the ground. As both the capital of the Gaian faction and the home base of the Planetary Governor, it's extremely busy…and if you don't know your way around, you'll find yourself asking for directions several times. 

However, there's one place that every Gaian knows, the young and the old. An entire section in the western quadrant is blocked off from any foot traffic whatsoever; no matter how badly they need the extra walkways in the cramped tunnel system. The only thing in the hallway is one doorway...for over a hundred years ago, the section was sealed to hold one woman away from the world for the remainder of her sentence.

It's visible for anyone to see, and most people see it everyday. The adults had all heard stories from their parents about various events in the past…the fall of University Base, the attack on Mandelev College, the sea battle above the underwater base. The new age of children, however, mainly have no idea why there's one empty hallway in the tunnels that would make a great walkway from one tunnel quadrent to another. Their parents, for whatever reason, refuse to retell the stories of old wars and battles. The Gaian's of today's age weren't physically involved, so they aren't emotionally involved.

In front of the room, there's always two guards stationed…unmoving, except to halt someone from jumping the railing and walking down the hall. The Planetary Council and Lady Deirdre herself has issued that the hallway is to remain empty at all times, except when specifically designated by her.

There is a reason the entire world's so anxious to keep the hallway empty. The curse of age affects the vast majority of humanity…most humans have an expectancy of about eighty years to live, even on Planet. However, incredible advances in medicine made it possible for a select few to achieve near-immortality. While the faction leaders remained looking as young as they did when they arrived on Planet, their parents and friends passed away.

Because of that fact, the original seven faction leaders still remained in office to watch over their people. However, the person they were trying to keep confined was also once a faction leader…who also received the gift of not youth as long as her sentence is in effect. The gift is not a blessing, however. Lady Deirdre had promised many times that after her four-hundred and seventy year sentence is finished, Meskha Treibek would be taken off the youth treatments and age normally in a prison cell, until her death.

So, for the past hundred years, Meskha has stayed in that small room in Gaia's Landing. She's attached to a Punishment Sphere, a device that flows electricity through her body on a random cycle, so as never to become used to the pain. Her only tie to the outside world has been cut off over for over ten years now, when an over-zealous guard tried to take advantage of the immobilized girl. The guard was electricuted and the abundance of energy disabled the sphere. Her bindings came loose, and she almost escaped from the room, had it not been for her atrophied muscles. Ever since, her food and water intakes had been distrubted through robotics.

Over the last hundred years, Planet hasn't been particuarly fond of the device. The Peacekeepers, in particular, attempted to enact trade sanctions against the Gaians unless the deactivated the device and moved Meskha to a more humane cell. Miriam's followers boycotted around Gaia's Landing once, shouting "Stop the torture!" Eventually, they were all removed forcibly via Gaian military. The public outcry got so bad that Deirdre signed a petition stating that Meskha would be the last person sentenced to the device.

You mighty wonder why Lady Deirdre would submit to using this device. The reason is that she knew just how smart Meskha was and still is. She knew that even the slightest breach in security would mean the girl escaping and possibly regaining some of the ties she still held from the old world. To allow the girl to escape would be a risk to the entire world, particularly the Earthborn.

In the years before her capture, Meskha had once had a dream: to extinguish Planet of those who were born on Earth. Her reasons were various, but they were enough to induce her to take control of Deirdre's mind and use her to destroy Prokhor Zakharov of the University of Planet. Zakharov entered into sanctuary under Sheng-ji Yang of The Hive, and discovered her plot. She failed and lost control of her faction, but not before attempting to destroy all life on Planet by igniting nerve gas into the air and sea. She was stopped before she could carry out her goal, and was put into solitary confinement within a punishment sphere for four-hundred and seventy years.

So, day by day the Gaian's walked past the hallway, casually glaring down towards the door and the guards, wondering if they could catch a glimpse of the memory and the legend that nearly destroyed not only the University of Planet, but also humanity itself…

* * *

**ZAKHAROV…**

_"What do you want?? Who are you!?"_

**YOU DID THIS TO ME…**

_"Who? What?"_

**YOU DID THIS…YOU WILL PAY…**

_"Whoever you are, you think I'm afraid of you?"_

**I WILL FIND YOU.**

_"And then what will you do?"_

**I WILL KILL YOU.**

_"Nice greeting. Now are you going to tell me who are?"_

**JUST WAIT, ZAKHAROV. IT WILL COME.**

_"Hmm…nice."_

**YOU WERE LUCKY, LAST TIME. I WON'T LET YOU ESCAPE AGAIN.**

_"…"_

**NEXT TIME, YOU'LL DIE WITH YOUR BASES.**

_"Meskha…?"_

**YOU MUST DIE WITH THE REST OF THE EARTHBORN.**

_"No! GET OUT OF MY HEAD!"_

**SHE'LL DIE TOO. THE FLAWED PRODUCT OF AN EARTHBORN.**

_"Get OUT!"_

**SOON, ZAKHAROV. SOON.**

* * *

He sat up in the bed, gasping. It wasn't the first time that Prokhor Zakharov had that dream, so it wasn't exactly new to him…but it was still just as frightening. It always ended the same way; _"Soon, Zakharov. Soon."_

The woman next to him had awoken and stroked his arm. "Prokhor…are you okay?"

Zakharov looked at the girl. Shila is an odd case…a hologram he'd created over a hundred years ago that had attained becoming sentient life, an incredible accomplishment…but Zakharov didn't see her as a computer program. He see her as a friend, a companion, and a wife. He nodded slowly.

"She's there, inside my mind. It's been a hundred years…and she's somehow found a way into my head."

The small girl crawled up against him, nuzzling his shoulder. "C'mon, Prokhor…she's still trapped inside that punishment sphere inside of Gaia's Landing. How could she be talking to you through your dreams?"

He ran a finger through her long brown hair. "I don't know…but it's frightening. I just can't be certain."

Shila turned on the light on the bed stand next to her, and then bounded naked across the room towards their desk, grabbing the monitor before running back to Zakharov. "Call Deirdre, then. Since she isn't responding, let's visit her find out what our little prisoner's been up to, if you don't trust her prison cell."

Zakharov put the monitor on the bed stand. "What time is it?" he said outloud.

A computerized voice spoke from speakers on the wall. **"Current time – 0405."**

Zakharov raised an eyebrow at Shila. She just shrugged. "Maybe we'll wait till sunrise, then."

Zakharov shook his head with a smile and shut off the light, trying to avoid the chill that rushed over him when he closed his eyes.


	3. Chapter 3

_"...lost within my own mind, aching beyond recourse; the only goals that compelled me to survive were to regain control of my being, my people and my faction. The latter two I gained back, but I don't think I've ever regained myself completely. Something of me is still missing…like a final task is still left incomplete…"_

_-Provost Prokhor Zakharov,_

_"The Mind of the University."_

* * *

"Nathanial, I told you, no playing those web games until you finish your homework!"

Nathanial looked back at his mother, who was standing in the doorway of his room with her hands on her hips. The thirty-five year old housewife generally had an easy-going temperament, but she couldn't stand to see idle hands in her house. He sighed and turned his attention back to his monitor.

"I'll do them, Mom; I just need to finish this. Don't worry; I'll get good grades on this batch of homework, as usual."

She wasn't buying it. "Nathanial, you need to learn discipline. Just because you find this homework easy doesn't mean that you won't need to learn adequate study-"

"-Methods for the future," Nathanial finished with her in unison, "so that I can get into top University colleges someday. Yes, mother, I know. I said I would do it, just let me finish this."

The woman scowled, but she knew Nathanial; if she pushed any more, he'd just get more defensive. "Alright, but I want it done before you go to bed. Got it?"

"Yes, Ma'am," he said, half-sarcastically. He knew he'd won this battle.

"Your father will be home soon. I'm going to go start dinner." She turned and left the doorway.

Nathanial watched her go, and then he pushed a button on his monitor and reconnected to Mille. She smiled.

"Finally! I thought she'd never leave."

Nathanial moaned. "She thinks I'm just some kid, just like everyone else."

Mille shook her head. "I don't think that."

Nathanial rolled his eyes. "That's because you're my best friend."

Mille smiled again. "How long will it take to access the Gaian Defense Mainframe?"

Nathanial accessed his side computer and quickly typed commands into it. "…Now."

Mille raised her eyebrow. "It took you nine seconds to access the GDM?"

He shrugged his shoulders. "You'd think it'd be harder for a seventh grader to access the most advanced military network on Planet."

Mille shrugged back. "You're not exactly an ordinary seventh grader."

Nathanial snorted. "This is child's play. Anyone could do it, particularly an adult with a more advanced computer."

Mille shook her head. "I've tried. I can't get past the military locks, and I always end up getting caught hacking the password. Luckily, all they've done so far is just snap my connection, which is good...I'd rather not be thrown to the corrections committee."

The boy raised an eyebrow. "There are always backdoors into the mainframe. The Gaian tech-guys apparently aren't worried about hackers."

She shrugged. "Then you'll just have to teach me, one day."

He nodded, and then turned back to his screen. "So, what're we looking at today: Military, domestic, criminal, agricultural, foreign, or financial tabs?"

Mille pointed to him in the screen. "Oh, criminal, that sounds neat!"

"Alrighty." He pushed down on the tab on the screen. "Recent…archives…this just looks like drunks and thieves reports. I mean, look here: 'SIMKE FIEDE: ESTIMATED THEFT: $343.77. TIME OF IMPRISONMENT: 1DAYPRIOR. TIME OF SENTENCE: NOTYETESTAB."

Mille brushed away a stray bang of hair from her eyes. "Meh. Boring. Try something else."

Nathanial wasn't listening to her. He pushed a tab on his monitor.

"Nathanial?"

The boy turned to her. "This tab says 'The Armageddon', and it requires a password. It doesn't look there are any backdoors through this one, either."

Mille raised an eyebrow. "'The Armageddon'? That's odd."

Nathanial put a hand to his brow. "It's in the criminal tab, too…this tab isn't even public knowledge, so whatever's behind that tab has to be seriously under wraps."

Mille cocked her head sideways. "So, what do you suppose it is?"

Nathanial turned back to his side computer. "I have no clue. This is like nothing I've come across before so far in the GDM. What is Lady Deidre hiding in there?"

Mille looked contemplative for a moment…than Nathanial watched her turn around in the screen. "I need to go, I'm being called. I'll talk to you tomorrow, Nathanial."

He smiled at her. "Okay, good night, Mille."

He turned off the monitor and closed the access to the GDM. Whatever was there would have to wait until later. For now, he had to work on that homework before the oppressor came.


	4. Chapter 4

_"You seem to have insatiable urge to destroy yourselves. You can be the most rational human born, and you'll still have to suppress yourself not to kill your enemies. It's in your mind, and it's in your blood. Why fight the urge? I'll tell you why. Because friendships and sworn enemies could be interchanged in a split second…and the bombs that you were once throwing at an old foe could become friendly fire to a new friend."_

_-Shila Zakharov,_

_"The Words of the Created."_

* * *

The air was cool and crisp in the gardens of Gaia's Landing…a little too crisp for Zakharov's tastes. He was more used to the warm plains where University Base was located. Deirdre, however, seemed to thrive in the 'autumn' air. As they walked, the flowers and plants around them swayed at her very presence. It was always awe-inspiring to see the connection she'd attained with Planet. 

Deirdre spoke, breaking his thoughts. "How is Shila?"

Zakharov suppressed a sigh. "Not as well as I'd like. We've been trying so hard to discover the coding I used for her own programming, but as far as we can tell, it was lost in the war…I'd never kept her program in my Datalinks, in fear they might've been found."

Deirdre raised her hand, and a long green vine moved off just slightly so it wouldn't be in their way as they walked. "So no children for you two yet, I concur."

Zakharov's lips curled downwards. Deirdre didn't exactly have a talent for tact. "No, Deirdre…not yet. What about you? Any Gaians who the wonderful leader might take to?"

Deirdre smiled..._musing internally on some deep thought_, Zakharov presumed. "No, no…there is no need for me to have children. All of Planet is both my children and my mother…we are one."

Zakharov shook his head. "No, no, silly girl, I didn't say anything about children. I'm talking about love."

Deirdre motioned for him to sit down at a small bench on the side of the path. She sat down next to him. "No, Zakharov…not now anyways. Maybe in a couple hundred years."

Zakharov decided not to press the issue. A silent moment passed as they watched the citizens scurry by, in a hurry to some unknown destination. Zakharov could only wonder where they were off to in such a hurry. _Then again_, he thought to himself, _**they** don't live forever_.

Deirdre looked up at the sky and closed her eyes. "Did you receive the data from the satellites today, regarding Morgan?"

Zakharov shook his head. "No, I was asleep on the flight here. What was it about?"

Deirdre looked at him, her hands rested on her knees. "More killings. More violence. The people of Morgan Industries are about ready to take up arms and demand revolt."

Zakharov brushed a gray hair away from his eyes. "I feel for Morgan."

Deirdre smiled humorlessly. "No, you don't. You know exactly why this is happening to him."

Zakharov shrugged. "It's not my fault he doesn't buy from me. He knew damned well that the world was turning to the University for new technological advances. His own arrogant pride of seeming inferior is getting the better of him, and thus, he's losing control of the people who are in second-rate cities in a second-rate faction."

"You know, Zakharov, you were once losing control of your faction, just as he is now."

Zakharov laughed. "No thanks to you, I might add. Besides, as I heard from Sheng-Ji, he demanded a huge amount of money before he would even consider coming to my aid. Why should I help, if he wouldn't help me? I'd say he's getting his just deserts."

The Gaian leader nodded her head. "The world depends on everyone else, nowadays. If you're not in the loop, you're way out of it, neh?"

Zakharov smiled. "I suppose so."

The two stood up from the bench and began to walk down the garden's path. Fields upon fields of grasses and plants grew in the many shelted gardens of Gaia's Landing…it almost made it odd to think that they also still held control of the greatest army on Planet._ Not exactly your harmless tree-huggers, these Gaians._

Zakharov knew there was no point in beating around the bush with Deirdre. "Deirdre…you know why I'm here." 

If she did know, she was stalling. "To visit me, of course."

"I could've done that on my monitor. I came here to look her in the eyes."

No clarification was needed. "Zakharov, you know I can't do that."

Zakharov swallowed. "I've been having nightmares, recently."

Deirdre cocked an eyebrow at him. "Clarify."

"It's her. She threatens to kill me and Shila, soon."

Deirdre shrugged. "Then it's a lie. She's still got three hundred and seventy years to go."

Zakharov looked at her with desperate eyes. "It's her, Deirdre. I can feel her presence in my soul."

Deirdre closed her hands together. "Prokhor, even if I wanted to, I couldn't. Not without unanimous agreement from the council. Even freeing her once to the outside world would be a danger to the program."

Zakharov nodded. "Can you at least ask some technicians to figure out why I'm getting these dreams?"

Deirdre nodded. "Listen, if you want to stay the night, I can ready up the VIP quarters. Go wander around the garden a little bit, and when they're ready, I'll send a cadet after you."

Zakharov nodded. "Thank you, Deirdre."

She nodded and walked off towards the doors that reentered the base, leaving Zakharov curious about Meskha. If what Deirdre was saying was true, she hasn't seen the outside world in a hundred years...even for a few seconds.

_Good_, he thought to himself, walking towards flowers, thinking of brighter things.


	5. Chapter 5

_"Once upon a time, there was a vision…unified life among humans. All the faction leaders swore upon it, and we set out towards Planet. Nearly two-hundred years later, I simply have to think to myself…'what the hell happened?'"_

_-Provost Prokhor Zakharov,_

_"The Mind of the University."_

* * *

Nathanial couldn't sleep. 

Something on his mind was bugging him…and for once, it didn't involve the torment he received daily at school. Something else was bothering him, and he was fairly sure what it was. However, he almost didn't want to think about it.

_Why_, he thought, _was there an encrypted file within already extremely tight security? What could they possibly be hiding that required even higher access than high Gaian council?_

He sat up. "What time is it?"

**"Current time - 0105."**

_Mille's sleeping by now_, he thought, _I'll let her rest_. Nathanial got up from his bed and walked over to his monitor, still slightly groggy from his lack of rest. Turning it on, he accessed the device's dictionary. He typed in the word "Armageddon", and then read the display aloud.

"Armageddon…derived from Greek, scene of the battle foretold in Revelations 16: 14-16 of the Christian bible. 'The site or time of a final and conclusive battle between the forces of good and evil.'" He raised an eyebrow while looking down at the next entry. "A usually vast decisive conflict or confrontation.'" He nodded to himself...that sounded more like it. Now what is it supposed to mean?, he thought.

He sat down at his desk and turned on his side computer. He laid his head down on the desk and rested his eyes. He was finally starting to get exhausted just as he was beginning to get interested in his new discovery. _Figures_. The main screen beeped at him, so he sat up and accessed the Gaian Public Library files. The search function called out to him. He typed in various words…"Armageddon", "Battles", "Confrontation"…he suddenly realized what the results had in common:

**TREIBEK, MESKHA**

**REMNANT'S OF EARTH**

**BATTLES OF PLANETWIDE WAR**

**REVELATION**

**TREIBEK, MESCA**

**CHRISTIANITY**

He stopped the search and blinked slowly. _Armageddon…Meskha…of course. How stupid of me…The criminal tab contains information about Meskha Treibek! But what information could it possibly contain about her? And even more importantly, what could the password be?_

He stifled a yawn. "What time is it?"

**"Current time: 0243."**

He blinked and realized just how long he'd been pondering the questions. However, the adrenaline was beginning to pump through his veins. He was definitely on to something. He accessed the GDM and pulled up the criminal tab. Accessing the Armageddon password slot, he stopped and realized he had no absolutely no idea what the password might be. He began testing obscure codes.

He typed in Zakharov. The screen quickly flashed back a message: INCORRECT PASSWORD. He tried vorahkaZ, as the Gaian tech guys had a tendency to use backwards passwords. INCORRECT PASSWORD appeared on the screen. University. INCORRECT PASSWORD. ytisrevinU. INCORRECT PASSWORD. Maybe Zakharov's wife, Shila? INCORRECT PASSWORD. alihS. INCORRECT PASSWORD. Prokhor. INCORRECT PASSWORD. rohkorP. INCORRECT PASSWORD. Deirdre. INCORRECT PASSWORD. erdrieD. INCORRECT PASSWORD. Gaia. INCORRECT PASSWORD. aiaG. INCORRECT PASSWORD. Meskha. INCORRECT PASSWORD. ahkseM. INCORRECT PASSWORD. Treibek. INCORRECT PASSWORD. kebierT. INCORRECT PASSWORD.

Fearing that he would be caught, he logged off the GDM, frustrated. _Armageddon…Armageddon…_then it hit him. He turned back to his side computer and pulled up files for the Christian Bible. He typed in "Revelations 16: 14-16". It asked him for a version, and then it listed some abbreviations that Nathanial didn't know. He picked the first one, KJV. The screen read: _"For they are demonic spirits, performing signs, who go abroad to the kings of the whole world, to assemble them for battle on the great day of God the Almighty. "Lo, I am coming like a thief! Blessed is he who is awake, (keeping his garments that he may not go naked and be seen exposed!") And they assembled them at the place which is called in Hebrew Armaged'don."_

Nathanial blinked, visibly confused. He pressed it to return to the option menu and selected the abbreviations one by one, each one making slightly more sense than the last. He finally reached the last, and it read: _"These miracle-working demons caused all the rulers of the world to gather for battle against the Lord on that great judgment day of God Almighty. "Take note: I will come as unexpectedly as a thief! Blessed are all who are watching for me, who keep their robes ready so they will not need to walk naked and ashamed." And they gathered all the rulers and their armies to a place called Armageddon in Hebrew."_

He read the following sentences, which went on about some angels or something of the like. Nathanial didn't really know what it was talking about, nor did he really care what it was talking about. He logged back into the GDM and into the criminal tab, accessed the Armageddon file, and typed in "Judgment Day". The screen seemed to explode into eight different views, which seemed to be focused on a direct point. It seemed to be a dark and gloomy room, totally unfurnished save for a large machine in the center of the room. Lightning licked out from the machine then back into it, but it all seemed to be attached to…something.

He noticed what seemed to be a woman was restrained against the machine. The bolts entered the body end exited the body in a scene that was almost painful to watch. Her eyes were closed and she didn't seem to recognize the pain, which was an unusual site, seeing as how Nathanial was disturbed just watching the torture. The realization of the event finally hit him…he was staring at Meskha Treibek…he was staring at a relic of history, a legend! The feeling was almost too much for him.

The bottom right window on his screen seemed to be a place to type a message. He wasn't exactly sure why, but he felt compelled to say something.

Umm…hello?

He watched as the girl's eyes flickered open with a start, and she seemed to experience unimaginable pain that she hadn't before.

**WHO ARE YOU?**

He blinked at the sudden intensity.

I'm sorry…my name is Nathanial.

**ARE YOU WITH THEM?**

Who?

**ARE YOU ONE OF THE LEADERS, COMING ONCE AGAIN TO INTERROGATE ME? YOU'RE A LITTLE LATE…IT'S BEEN OVER TEN YEARS NOW.**

He wondered to himself if he was dreaming…but then shook it off. It was too real.

I'm not here to interrogate you. I found the Armaggedon file, and I felt compelled to say something.

The girl's eyes turned from fear to rage.

**WHY HAVE YOU AWOKEN ME FROM MY SLEEP?**

Sleep?

**I AM IN PAIN. CAN YOU NOT TELL?? AT LEAST WHEN I SLEEP I CAN FEEL SLIGHTLY BETTER.**

I'm sorry…

The expression of the girls face, though still contorted with pain, lightened a bit.

**I apol…-logize. I'm sorry, what… was your name again?**

Nathanial.

**It's…nice to meet…you. It's been a long time since…I've talked to anybody new. My name…**

The face on the screen dropped, and she trembled with what seemed like pain.

I know. Meskha.

The face nodded.

It's a pleasure to meet you.

**As…you, Nathanial…I'm sorry…the pain…**

I'll leave you for now. Do you mind if I talk with you in the future?

The face nodded and attempted a smile. Nathanial took the cue and logged off from the GDM. "What time is it?"

**"Current time: 0326."**

He rubbed his temples, staring at the blank screen in front of him for just a second more, and then he crawled into his bed, praying to whatever god was listening that he'd not be subjected to such pain in his own life.


	6. Chapter 6

_Ungrateful brat. She had never wanted for anything in her life. The University took care of everything she needed; food, protection and education. She could've lived a great life as a engineer or even as an politician if she'd put her mind to it. Instead, she'd only been content with greed and destruction. Good riddance to bad rubbish, I say.   
_

_-Shila Zakharov,_

_"The Words of the Created."_

* * *

_It's interesting to hear four people say "no" in unison_, Zakharov mused to himself. Deirdre had asked the faction leaders to join her and Zakharov via the comm. to discuss Zakharov's request to speak with Meskha directly. However, it seemed that they all had the same viewpoint as Deirdre.

"Zakharov, you know as well as any of us that exposing Meskha to direct contact is dangerous," Miriam started. "We decided that over ten years ago."

"Why would you want to talk to her directly anyways, Zakharov?" Yang asked. "There's nothing you or anyone else can gain from her. She's just a tired old woman earning her judgment."

Zakharov turned to monitor that displayed Yang's face. "But maybe she's not just that. For some reason, she's appearing to me in my dreams. She promises death and destruction to my wife, my faction and myself. It scares me to think that she might be capable of that."

"Zakharov," Lal interrupted, "it's the one-hundred-year anniversary of the capture and judgement of Meskha. I would think it shouldn't be a surprise that someone so detrimental in your life would be present in your subconscious."

"Perhaps," Zakharov responded. "I just want to be sure."

Santiago's face flickered to attention as she spoke. "I don't see what good it would do to expose her to direct human contact. We decided that ten years ago with the implementation of Armageddon. Why don't you just speak to her that way? You're a faction leader, you have access to the program."

Zakharov shook his head. "She won't talk to me through Armageddon. It works on a machine-to-mind interface, and she recognizes my mindwaves. I've tried many times, only to receive emptiness."

"Well," Deirdre interjected, "it's something to ponder until the next scheduled plantetary faction meeting. As for now, the near-unanimous vote of 'nay' still stands. Meskha will not be disturbed physically."

The faction leaders, including Zakharov, nodded at her judgement. Zakharov didn't really expect much more than that. He turned his head to Yang, who was slowly shaking his head as he spoke. "So, who's heard the latest about Morgan?"

Zakharov watched as all five leaders looked towards the only monitor in seven without a face projecting from it. He had watched as Deirdre attempted to invite Morgan to the meeting five times, to no avail.

"Either he's becoming isolationist, or his government has been overthrown," Deirdre said, to no one in particular. She turned her attention to the row of monitors. "I believe I have an obligation to send a recon unit to Morgan Industries to discover the cause of his silence."

Zakharov, who was sitting next to Deirdre, put his hands behind his head and shrugged. "I don't recommend it."

Deirdre turned to him with a quizzical expression on her face. "I know you don't particularly care for him, Zakharov, but I feel it's my duty as planetary governor to ensure the safety of our faction leader comrades."

"That may be true," Zakharov replied, "but in all actuality you're only going to discover one of two things. You'll either find a destroyed hovel run by rioting drones, or a pissed-off Morgan who didn't want to be disturbed by us in the first place."

Deirdre cleared her throat. "Your opinion is noted, Zakharov, but I would still like to make sure the Morgan Company wasn't overtaken by Demon Boils, or something of the like."

Zakharov noted his acceptance of her explanation. Deirdre turned her attention back to the screens. "Any other questions or concerns?" The rows were silent. "Then we will hold our next official planetary meeting in six months time. Thank you all for appearing on such short notice, and if there are any pressing concerns affecting any of you, please don't hesitate to call me...you know my frequency. Deirdre out."

The monitors all flickered off one by one as the leaders returned to their business. Deirdre turned to Zakharov with a confused expression. "You seem a bit annoyed today."

Zakharov shrugged. "Just a little frustrated at the concern with keeping Meskha so isolated. I mean, we suffered from her most of all, but do you think that just talking to her directly will somehow let her reestablish her connections? It's been a hundred years, the only people that are still alive from when she was younger are the faction leaders, and we certainly aren't going to help her gain power again."

Deirdre stood up, gesturing for Zakharov to do the same. "Maybe we're not worried that she'll reestablish connections, Zakharov. Maybe we're worried she'll just start establishing new ones. There are plenty of people on Planet who wouldn't mind anarchy instead of peace; and as we both know, Meskha is certainly capable of bringing anarchy."

"It's just a bit disheartening, Deirdre, to keep having these awful nightmares. Not even drugs help to get rid of the darkness she and her memories bring into my mind."

"Maybe some tea with honey will calm you down a little bit, Zakharov." She gestured towards the door. "Let's just chat a little bit in my quarters before it's time for you to go back home."

Zakharov couldn't help smiling. "Sounds like a plan," he said, following her out of the control room.

* * *

"Is there anything my engineers can do to help?" Deirdre asked, between sips of tea.

Shila shook her head sadly. "Prokhor's tried everything possible, along with the help of countless other scientists over the years. Either there's something that we're missing entirely, or people like me just can't be recreated. It just might not be possible to make another sentient being. Maybe I just got lucky."

Zakharov scratched his head and leaned back in his chair. "The closest I've ever gotten was a particularly temperamental drone. He seemed sentient in the beginning, but it never did attain the level Shila did. So I put him to work in Base Operations, by his request."

Deirdre put her hands on the table, one on top of the other. "Maybe you were simply a gift from Planet, Shila."

Shila cocked her head sideways. "A gift?"

"It's just a theory. But Planet might've seen that Zakharov was lonely while he was working on you. So perhaps it granted you a spirit…a soul."

Zakharov took a sip of tea and yawned. "I remember back to when I wasn't a spiritual man, Deirdre. It was so much easier back when I could pretend that anything that couldn't be proven wasn't real."

Deirdre smiled. "Yes, that was back in the days when anyone who had a love for planet and talked to the ground was a 'crazy tree-hugger', eh, Zakharov?"

Shila raised her hands. "Hey, I loved animals and plants and I wasn't crazy!"

"'Wasn't'," Zakharov emphasized, with a smile. "That was before you started on this baby crusade. Every day it's 'me want baby Prokhor!!!'"

Shila pouted. "I don't do that!"

Deirdre chuckled. "She's obviously just waiting, Zakharov. You've kept the poor girl waiting for a hundred years. I'd be impatient too."

"Yeah!" Shila said, playfully punching his arm. The smile on face began to gradually fade. "So what's the consensus on Meskha?"

Deirdre's eyes dipped downwards. "It's nay. The best thing I can suggest is trying to talk to her on Armageddon. The council refuses to allow anything else."

Zakharov and Shila nodded together. There was no point in arguing the issue.

"It's beginning to get late. I would be happy to get the VIP quarters ready if you'd like to spend the night."

Zakharov shook his head. "We already spent the night last night, Deirdre. I refuse to impose on your hospitality. Our shuttle will get us back to University Base by midnight. We should probably get going, as you must have things to do too."

Deirdre stood up. "A few, but nothing too big. Might I ask a favor, though?"

Zakharov cocked his head. "Hmm?"

"Try and contact Morgan, for my sake. I know you're the only one who hasn't even attempted to contact him, and maybe you'll have better luck."

Zakharov fidgeted, but agreed. "Only for your sake." Deirdre smiled as Zakharov. "Let's go. We'll talk to you soon, Deirdre." She watched as the two headed out the door, and sat down once more. She still had time to finish her tea.


	7. Chapter 7

_"And in the end, all of Zakharov's forces and all of his men **did **put The University back together again. Take that, Mother Goose!"_

_-Shila Zakharov,_

_"The Words of the Created."_

* * *

Nathanial looked up towards the sky. Dark and gloomy clouds now covered the once bright and sunny day. The remains of a once beautiful city were smoldering behind him, and a distinct smell of burning flesh was in the air. There were many people around him…a few were dying, but many more were dead. Nathanial couldn't believe it, even though he was seeing it for his own eyes.

In the distance, however, he saw them coming. Hundreds upon hundreds of rovers, all headed in his direction. He tried to run, but his feet were stuck in place. They got closer and closer, and all he could do was scream –

-as he sat up in bed with a jolt. Gasping for breath, Nathanial fearfully looked around the dark room. It was as it should be, much to his relief.

"What time is it?" He asked outloud.

**"Current time: 0446."**

Nathanial rubbed his face and tried to slow down his breathing. He knew that he only had an hour and fifteen minutes before he was supposed to be waking up for school, not to mention the fact that he hadn't gone to bed at 2343 like he was supposed to. Despite his fear of returning to his nightmare, he fell back into his bed and tried to sleep.

Twenty minutes of tossing and turning later, however, he gave up and walked to his window. The nightmare was indeed plaguing him, but not nearly as much as his discovery a few hours before._ I discovered the person that no civilian has seen for over a hundred years. _The words echoed in his mind, and he knew he was never going to get to sleep as long as he just sat there, thinking about her.

He walked over to his desk and picked up his monitor. He pondered calling Mille, but she needed even more sleep than he did, what with her teaching lessons. _I'll talk to her first thing tomorrow_. He logged into the GDM and accessed The Armageddon. The screen once again split into its various views, all focusing on the central point of Meskha. He could barely stand to watch the woman experience such levels of pain. The text window in the bottom right beckoned for him, but he decided not to wake the woman up again from her pain. He was about to log off - when he saw the text box flicker.

What was that?

**…don't know. Do you…feel something?**

I'm sensors are detecting another mindwave. Who's there?

**I don't feel anything, Nwabudike…let's just continue …plans…**

I don't trust it. I'll contact you tomorrow.

**No, wait…**

The text box went dormant after that. Nathanial watched the pain and desperation in Meskha's eyes from the boxes. His own eyes were beginning to grow tired, until he remembered what she had said: _"I don't feel anything, Nwabudike…"_ That was President Morgan's first name! He didn't only witness a living legend today, he witnessed two of them! A voyeuristic feeling arose in Nathanial as he wondered what the two had been talking about. Unfortunately, Morgan was very thorough in deleting their chats. He could probably undelete them, but it'd take hours, and he was beginning to fall asleep as it was. "What time is it?"

**"Current time: 0538."**

"Then what's the point of even going to bed?" he said, as he walked out the door towards the kitchen.

----------------------------------------------------------------

"Na-than-ial Fowl! _WAKE UP_!"

The teacher's voice awoke Nathanial from his five-minute dream. It wasn't the first time today he'd been asked to stay awake, but it was certainly the loudest.

"I apologize, sir. I didn't sleep well last night."

"Well," he said, leaning against his desk, "You're going to get worse sleep here. Now, I'll repeat the question: what is a Planet Buster?"

Nathanial shook his head out of annoyance and grogginess. "A Planet Buster is a theoretical weapon designed to initiate a nuclear and catastrophic effect against its target."

The teacher crossed his arms. "What makes you think it's theoretical?"

"It's never been used, nor has any faction ever announced that it has one."

"Ah, but why would they announce it? Lady Deirdre enacted anti-atrocity laws. If any faction were to use one, they'd lose any support and they would be targets to every other faction."

"They would announce it to gain authority," Nathanial said, fiddling with his monitor buttons and not really paying much attention to the debate. "If I was the leader of a faction, I'd say that I had a Planet Buster just to induce fear within my enemies. It's not against anti-atrocity laws to make a Planet Buster, just to use one."

The teacher nodded. "Possibly. But let's say someone built enough Planet Busters to destroy every base on Planet. What good would the atrocity law be than?"

Nathanial looked up at the teacher. "They would be no good."

The teacher nodded solemnly and turned around. "Such is the state of the world that we live in. We all have the capacity to use such bombs to destroy everything, but we're all currently at peace. It'll only take a war."

Nathanial turned his attention back to the buttons his monitor. "Except, of course, that Planet Busters are only theoretical."

The teacher turned around and stared at Nathanial with cold eyes. "Wait until war, Nathanial, and you'll see just how theoretical they really are."

----------------------------------------------------------------

He saw Mille running up to him from a distance away. He had looked for her all morning, but the Teacher's Guild had called her in to do special tutoring. It wasn't the first time, and they usually paid her well for it... but Nathanial had wanted to talk to her since the night before, and every minute he had to wait was like torture.

"I heard you were looking for me, Nathan. What's up?"

Nathanial rolled his eyes. He hated the name Nathan and tolerated it only from Mille. "I got into Armageddon."

Mille let her jaw drop the slightest bit. "The Armageddon in the criminal tab?"

He nodded. "It contains Me-"

He stopped short as he felt something hard hit the back of his head. He clenched the back of his head and looked down at the ground. It was, of course, a battal ball. Nathanial had no need to check who'd thrown it.

"You're losing arm strength, brute. That should've hurt more."

Max was leaning against the locker. "I didn't want to hit Miss Canio. She always seems to be in the way, unfortunately."

Mille turned around with fire in her eyes. "Max Chasen, are you simply begging to be reported to the corrections council?"

Max put an innocent look on his face. "For what, ma'am?"

"I'd say not to act stupid, but that's a little too difficult for you," Nathanial shouted.

Mille nudged him. "You're not helping." She then turned her attention back to Max. "For continued harassment of students, and you know it."

The bully put a hand to his heart. "Miss Canio, you've wounded me. I do nothing but play."

"Play with your bully friends, not the ones that can't fight back. I'll report you at the next sign of trouble."

He bowed to Mille. "My humble apologies."

Mille growled in disgust. She pulled Nathanial away from the situation. "Don't tell me about Armageddon, show me. Your house?"

Nathanial smiled, both for Mille's help once again, and because he could begin to delve into the mystery he'd discovered with his best friend.

* * *

Nathanial's parents weren't home, and they both knew it. Otherwise, Mille would most certainly not be allowed inside Nathanial's room. "Good lord only knows what seventh-graders do while their parents aren't looking!" they would say. Nathanial and Mille both laughed at the naivety of some people.

"'Judgement day'. Interesting."

Nathanial walked into the room, followed by Mille, who was holding a glass of tea. Nathanial sat at the desk. "Kind of unoriginal. I mean, all I had to do was look in a Christian bible."

Mille nodded. "But like you said, the Gaian tech guys aren't very imaginative."

He nodded as he accessed The Armageddon. The screen split into eight views, all facing Meskha. Mille gasped. "You weren't kidding."

Meskha's eyes fluttered awake as the program was activated.

**It was you, wasn't it, Nathania…l?**

Mille's eyes widened. "She's talking to you??"

Nathanial nodded and began to type. I don't understand.

**Last …night. While we were talking.**

I didn't mean to interrupt anything.

**It's okay. I actually want to… include you in what we've been talking about. The…more the morrier, I say…and I'll need all…the allies I can get.**

"Why does she hesitate when she speaks?" Mille asked.

"She's connected to a punishment sphere. I'm not exactly sure how it works, but I believe that every time lightning enters her body, she pauses her speech, possibly in pain."

What help can I offer?

**It involves you…me and Nwa-…President Morgan. I need your…help. I'm assuming you are not a…Gaian officer or a fact...ion leader and you've somehow…hacked into my mindwaves, like ...Morgan did?**

"I don't think she knows about Armageddon," Nathanial said aloud. "She would've mentioned it by now."

"Isn't Morgan a faction leader, though?" Mille asked, confused.

"Haven't you seen the news lately? Morgan's been AWOL for a long time now."

You are correct.

**Then you have the ability... to disrupt or destroy the Gaian Defense Mainframe.**

Mille leaned forward. "What?!"

Nathanial shook his heard at her, calming her slightly.

Possibly.

**Me and Preside...nt Morgan have a plan. He has amassed a giant army, and he is pla…ning to attack Gaia's Landing.**

Why?

**Because his people are riot...ing, that's why. Morgan has been a fool. Over a hundred years he has... not accepted the other factions offers…of help and science. His people see that as a sign…of arrogance. They've taken over the streets and…are demanding a leader who will lead them to great…ness. He wants to find someone…who can rule with him and keep the…rioters under control. Hence, me.**

I see you haven't lost your confidence over a hundred years.

**You know of me?**

I've read books about you.

**Then I'm sure you know about…my not-so-pleasing past. Well, I want to make it…clear that I just want to help Morgan. He's the…only leader to even talk to me with any kindness since…my sentence. But Nathanial, his job will be much more difficult if…the Gaian's fight back. I need your help to disrupt…their communications so it's a swift…extraction.**

And what's in it for me?

Milled grabbed his shoulders. "Are you insane?!"

Nathanial put a hand to her lips and gently pushed her back onto his bed. She reluctantly stayed quiet.

**You will receive anything, and... everything. Any wish you want I will grant, after Morgan makes me a co-leader. You, your friends, your...family will all become royalty.**

Nathanial had heard enough. He saved the chat onto a pad and closed the connection to her mind. He then turned the program into author mode and began forcibly extracting communication from Morgan. They'd had days worth of chats, apparently, as the chats seemed to pour into the pad.

Milled stared at him. "Now what are you doing?"

He stared back at her. "You didn't think I was going to fall for that, did you? Meskha has a plan to get out of her prison sentence three hundred and seventy years early, and we can't allow that to happen. Planet can't allow that to happen.

He finally finished two hours later. Meskha was still on the screen, smiling despite her pain. Nathanial growled at the woman. He went back into author mode and changed the password from "Judgment Day" to "Demon Wench."

"Morgan will not have access to her any longer. We've got to talk to Lady Deirdre."

Mille scoffed. "How do you expect to get attention to Deirdre? She's governor of our faction and of Planet. You expect her to care about two seventh-graders?"

Nathanial smiled. He exited Judgment day and the criminal tab, and entered the domestic tab. Inside, he entered Deirdre's personal diary through a backdoor. He could read the entirty of her existence if he wanted to, but that was of little concern at the moment. He entered author mode and typed in the following message:

_"Lady Deirdre,_

_My name is Nathanial Fowl, a loyal citizen in Silvering Point. I have gained access into the GDM. Do not fret that I have done harm, for that has never been my intention. However, I have gained access into The Armageddon via the criminal tab, and I have come upon a rather disturbing plot, involving prisoner Meskha and President Morgan of Morgan Industries. I wish to discuss this with you further. Please arrange a meeting if you care for your faction, and for Planet. My address is enclosed._

_-Nathanial Fowl."_

He saved the entry and disconnected from the GDM. "Now," Nathanial said, leaning back, "Let's just hope Deirdre is paying attention."


End file.
